


Chapter Thirty-Eight: Ninety-Nine Problems

by CavalierConvoy



Series: MTMTE Series One: Shoot Straight with a Crooked Gun [39]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers Generation One, Transformers Generation Two
Genre: Gabriel Muffin, Gen, Hacking, Other, Rescue Missions, Science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 06:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3680628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalierConvoy/pseuds/CavalierConvoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part Four of <i>Ten Seconds to Sunrise</i>:</p><p>Good to be amongst allies</p><p>But things don't look good on the home front</p><p>
  <i>Better scram whilst the scramming's good</i>
</p><p>There's just one little problem...</p><p>One little trigger...</p><p>
  <i>And all goes to slag....<br/>
</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter Thirty-Eight: Ninety-Nine Problems

Like broken glass under my feet,  
I can lose my mind in this heat.  
Lookin' for the prize but I don't want blood,  
Order one drink then I drink the flood.

You can come inside but your friends can't come,  
Ninety-nine problems and a bitch ain't one.  
—["Ninety-Nine Problems" ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LloIp0HMJjc)as performed by Hugo, from _Old Tyme Religion_  


Elite Guard Interstellar Cruiser _Vindication_  
Docked with the _Xantium_  
Two Light Years from the Betelgeuse Supernova  
Five Stellar Cycles Ago

Even with the solar blinds in place, the observation deck was bathed in the brilliant red light of the supernova. Perceptor, Skyfire, and Brainstorm were at the front of the discussion, pouring over data from datapads and hard copies, talking in hushed but animated tones.

Artemis, leaning against the door jamb with arms crossed, used them as a focus point as she brooded over the mission.

"Shanix for your thoughts, Art?" Jazz questioned.

"Don't tempt me, I may take you up on it," she grinned.

"Rather owe you a litre," he chuckled. "What's on your mind?"

"I may not be a scientist," she muttered, "but I know enough that if the nerds are saying something accelerated the star's decay, that's not a good sign."

"Would explain why the Legion activity was so light," Jazz shrugged. "Hopefully the sappers got some info on the equipment they scavved."

"And the pod?" She questioned.

"Still trying to crack it. Sounds like there's a failsafe in the codes. Cav's made a new friend, by the by."

"If it's not friend, it's frenemy," she smirked. "Guess I should get my aft on board the _Xantium_ before some smug gashole decides to question me."

"Yeah, 'bout that, Art." Jazz rubbed the back of his neck.

"You of all mechs are not going to arrest me," she ordered.

"Never said I would. Look, it's not the whole Senate against you. Slag's going down, Art, and it doesn't just stem from the sitch on Earth, either. Iacon's clamping down --"

Artemis sneered at his choice of words, but remained silent.

"--to face off the Legion on the home front. A measure hit the desk to introduce conscription able-bodied 'bots. Another's giving clemency to 'Cons if they serve under the Senate banner against Legion. Yet another is looking suspiciously like the rumblings of bringing back Functionist mentality in wartime. And Elita's been ... detained."

"'Detained'?" She met his gaze, a frown forming. "What do you mean?"

"She's been delegated to internal operations through the Senate. They drafted a clause and pushed it through to keep a Prime in Iacon in times of crisis, to lead us on the home front."

"Sky, wrap it up — we need to step up our primary mission!" Artemis snapped, louder and more forceful than intended. "Roadbuster, what's your twenty?"

 _"On board the_ Xantium," Roadbuster answered. _"Why isn't your aft here?"_

"Staying with Sky, catching up with Jazz. Gonna bypass the debrief and hit the _Ell-Arr_. Have Springer ping me, but in the meantime, keep the Wreckers spaceborne; slag's getting hot on the home front."

_"On it and understood, Prime."_

"Hate it when they call me that," she grumbled.

"What, 'Prime'?" Jazz shook his head with a chuckle. "Might help if you didn't act like one, if you want my opinion."

"Noted," she smirked as Skyfire approached her.

"We should have had at least a century, even a millennium, before supernova," the giant stated. "And we are picking up a gravitational anomaly within the debris. By all scientific models, we should be picking up a pulsar, but the data's...corrupted."

"You want to stay and figure it out?" Artemis questioned.

Skyfire hesitated. "It is tempting, but..." He set his shoulders. "No, I promised I would help you in your mission. And now more than ever." He sighed. "The ripple we were investigating has been consumed. We need to move onto the next iteration, and while I was able to explain the concept to Cavalier, I do not feel that she is able to understand the mathematics behind the navigation unassisted just yet."

"Then to the _Ell-Arr._ " She pushed away from the jamb and exited the deck, with both Skyfire and Jazz in step behind her.

_"Springer to Artemis."_

She tapped her comm. "Artemis here. What's up?"

_"We may have a situation. Looks like there's a complication in the 'pod's hatch. Someone doesn't want us to open it."_

"The hell?"

_"The hatch is rigged with a — hold on. Cav, can you explain it to Art?"_

_"Okay, here's the sitch,"_ Cavalier stated. _"The hatch has this failsafe — force open the fragger, the whole thing goes boom. I hacked the data files and all I can find is a BIOS in which we could hack into, tricking the latch into thinking we're the ship's computer. Problem is, there's this delay function. Whoever constructed it didn't want it falling into Cybertronian hands. Added bonus, there's a nasty little counter-virus that'll cut life support inside the pod, you know, just in case whoever's inside survives the boom that takes out the rescuers."_

"So, course of action?"

 _"The_ Ell-Arr _is primarily Sirian tech. I'm familiar enough with the systems now that I can navigate its BIOS. Once I get the system talking to the pod, I can disarm the latch and get that mofo open."_

"Are you certain?"

 _"Boss lady, you do realise there's a chance that this is Rod?"_ Cavalier retorted. _"Unknown pod in the vicinity of a rip? He could have found a way to get back here. Percy and I had discussed the possibility and he thinks it's a slim chance that I'm right. Go ahead and ask."_

Artemis contemplated the observation for a solid quarter-megacycle. "So we take the pod on board our ship and pop it open."

_"I can do it, Art. I was able to decipher the BIOS, figure out the system. I just can't access it with our own tech."_

"Alien system set to blow if handled by Cybertronian tech," Artemis explained to Skyfire. "Cav wants to use the _Ell-Arr_ systems to open it up. She and Percy's got a running theory that it could be Rod inside."

Skyfire arched a brow. "That is a slim possibility."

"'Slim'? You're supposed to be the voice of reason, Sky, and talk me out of it."

"We do not know the origin of the pod," Skyfire mused. "But it is broadcasting an known frequency in an area where we had traced an anomaly matching what we are looking for, as per Perceptor's findings."

"You have faith this could yield something positive?" Artemis regarded her friend with a wry smile. "Then let's do it. What's the worst that can happen? We blow up the ship — it's not like the old man can come after me if I'm scrapped anyway."

"You certain?" Jazz questioned. "Not like we couldn't bring it back to Iacon and have the bigwigs take a crack at it."

"If it is Rod," Artemis pointed out, "do you think they'll let him just pick up where he left off?"

"That would be a behemoth negatory. I'm beginning to see where you're going with this."

"And I can't set foot on Cybertron until I have insurance of success."

"No way I can talk you out of it. I'll make arrangements to bring the pod onto the _Ell-Arr_."

"We'll keep our distance. Sandstorm, Tankor, new orders: we're taking the pod, going to use the Sirian tech on the Ell-Arr to disarm the traps. We want to risk minimum personnel, so you should stay on the Xantium."

 _"Like hell we are,"_ Octane groused. _"You think I'm going to let Brat get all the glory?"_  
_"What he means,"_ Sandstorm interrupted, _"is we're in this together. If Cav's right, and it is Rod, we're golden, the Senate's screwed, and we can go back to wrecking Legion until they run to whatever scraphole they came from."_

"We're putting a lot of hope into this," Artemis sighed, "but let's do it."

*

A quarter megacycle later, the five of them were regarding the pod in the _Little Revenge's_ primary hold. Cavalier had rigged up a transtector cockpit board and was sitting with it in her lap, tapping at her datapad with one hand.

"So the good news is that we're talking base-two mathematical language — bonus. There's also a nice little Rosetta stone — Earth term, Creep, meaning there's a common core language to help translate the system. In this case, there's a Nebulon dialect going on in the programming. I can work with it."

"The moment you thing you're going to lose it, you cut the power," Artemis ordered.

"We good, boss lady." Cavalier waved away the concern. "Me and Percy worked out the details."

"You do realise it's likely not Rod, Brat," Octane reminded. "Don't get your hopes up."

"Yeah, is he able to take an alien craft's transmitter and recalibrate it to broadcast on the proper emergency frequencies?" Sandstorm questioned.

"Maybe he had help? One can hope," Cavalier grumbled, letting her annoyance in the admonition permeate. "It's all we got now."

A series of raps emanated from within the hull. Skyfire listened in, counting the repetitions, translating in his head. "'Who's now Prime?'"

"That's...actually a really good question," Octane scratched the back of his helm.

"Elita," Artemis ordered. Skyfire nodded, and, with his knuckle, rapped out the sequence to spell out the answer.

"Huh. Seems like the BIOS likes Sirian tech," Cavalier muttered. "Which means it's likely an Akbar."

"'An Akbar'?" Sandstorm questioned.

"It's a trap," Artemis translated.

"Heh. I get it," Octane stuck his index fingers out towards Cavalier. After five clicks, he met Sandstorm's irritated glare. "What? So Brat and I had an all-nighter involving Star Wars and a suitcase of V7." He shrugged. "What can I say? Earth cinema's decent when working on a buzz."

"Well, now that I have the Sirian base, and with that, let's see if I can transliterate to Engrish-like. Because I'm picking up a pattern now ... and ... disco!"

"You got it?" Skyfire questioned.

"Well, I figured out the trap aspect. Someone took the time to translate it from English to Sirian -- meaning we got someone's pulling a Gabriel Muffin."

"Just pretend you understand her," Octane muttered.

"It's an automatic translation, meaning someone had to be familiar with Sirian, translated it to English, then translated it back to Sirian. And with that, using both Sirius- and Earthbound knowledge to tamper with the operating system, and encrypted it using a replacement cipher. Which is interesting, because the cipher itself is rather simple. Whoever did this wanted a specific skill set for their rescuers. Which is why I'm a mite suspicious. Because unless he had help, it's not Rod's speciality."

"Should we pull back?" Skyfire asked.

"Negatory — I'd've figured it out sooner rather than later. Now, if someone can be a sweetspark and get me a drink?"

"Your turn to feed the Brat," Octane ordered Sandstorm as he fell into a crash seat, crossing his arms over his chest.  
Cavalier sat back, studying her 'pad. "Welp, it's now or never. Only got one chance, so gotta make it count. I rigged up a counter-failsafe, something to disable a programmed detonation, but it'll burn out the rest of the electronics in the process. Which means someone break out the arc torches, because we have, eh, ten, fifteen cycles to get dude out of there before his cabin fills with improperly-vented fuel vapours."

"On it," Skyfire, defying his size, ducked into the maintenance hold and returned with an arc torch. To Artemis, he nodded. "I can handle it from there; the failsafe will be disabled, and I can work fast. We raise the shields around the hold and open the vents as a precaution. Once you finish your program, Cavalier, retreat with the others into the cockpit, until we're in the green." He met Artemis's gaze. "We will succeed."

"Octane, Sandstorm, move us out of blast range of the Xantium," Artemis ordered. "Cav, set the program and run the comms. I'm staying with Sky to open it up." For emphasis, she unhitched the Forge and choked up on the hilt.

"You don't think it's Rod," Sandstorm posed his question as a statement.

"I protect my crew," she countered. "If it's not Rod, or a scientist, or an explorer, or anyone, I want to know whose colours they're flying."

"Well, I smell a suicidal plan when I come across one," Octane jumped to his feet and leading the charge into the cockpit. "Though really, it would be good if you two, you know, survived."

"Make this work, Prime," Sandstorm clapped Artemis's arm before grabbing Cavalier's. "C'mon, Brat, let's let the big guns take over."

"If it is Rod," Cavalier initiated, "I don't care either way — call me back in?"

Artemis gave her a short nod, her gaze never faltering from the pod. "Start the purge, Cav."

The Minibot nodded, thumbing the button on her pad as she followed the triple-changers into the cockpit, the door sealing with a hermetic hiss.

Skyfire lit the torch as the whirling from within the pod powered down. "And mark," he muttered, stepping forward and touching the violet-white flame to the hatch seams, air hissing from the cabin.

Artemis twirled the hammer in her hands, then gripped it with the hook in the striking position. The giant was counting down under his breath, working quickly. "Right upper corner cleared; pry it out to get some ventilation to the cabin."

"Roger," Swinging the hammer and letting the handle slide forward for momentum, Artemis lodged the head's hook end into the open seam. Planting her foot against the 'pod's hull, she yanked thrice, pulling the metal away from the structure as Skyfire continued down the seam.

"Oi, you okay?" she shouted over the torch's roar. "Give us a sign you can hear us!"

"A sudden decompression may have caused a black out," Skyfire reminded, then cursed. "Did we ever consider we may be dealing with an organic?"

"Other than the programming languages? Negative -- the sappers were communicating with him using one of our knock codes." Louder, Artemis called out to the occupant once more. "Oi! We're coming -- almost finished! Hang in there! Sky, once you kill the torch, increase oxygen levels -- just to be on the safe side."

"Clear -- and pull it!" Skyfire ordered, shutting down the torch and, with a fluid turn on his knees, tapped a sequence on the hold's console. Summoning all her strength, Artemis did as instructed, wedging the hammer into the opening, jimmying it wider, before sticking her arm inside and pulling away the hull. Skyfire helped, and together they were able to free the hatch from its fittings.

"Oi!" She shouted once more; without the torch's scream, her voice was too harsh, too loud, within the confines of the 'pod. She climbed into the hole, the Forge in one hand.

Her original function was search and retrieval, and her optics were built specifically for low-light situations. With the light from the hold streaming in and the emergency lights, she could make out the details of within the pod. A single occupant could, if frugal, survive a stel or so with the onboard energon dispenser/replenisher and recharge station. A computer system and console to her right had been stripped and rebuilt.

"Cybertronian!" she called to Skyfire. "Dispenser and recharge berth's been used recently. Hey, you're with friends -- we're here to help!"

Still no answer. Deeper into the 'pod, the light from the hold losing potency, she caught herself from tripping over a blade of metal. Retaining a scanning gaze, she knelt, picking up the blade.

It was a wing, severed not by force. Holding it up to the waning light from outside, she made out a light grey, edged in red, with a violet insignia --

Dropping the blade, she drew her machine pistol, leading with her right hand, lip curled into a sneer. She held the Forge in her left, head down, ready for an upward swing.

Against the back wall, two sparks of reddish gold flared to life. The figure, sans the left wing, sat with hands up by his head.

"It's so good," Starscream smirked, a twisted lift of his mouth, somewhere between genuine enthusiasm and malicious sarcasm, "to be amongst my dearest friends again."

_Oh._

_Frag._

_Me._

NEXT CHAPTER:   
_Shoot Straight with a Crooked Gun:_ intimate Stranger  
_Ten Seconds to Sunrise:_ Guardian at the Gate


End file.
